


Familienbande

by Hekate1308



Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Creature Fic, Creature Thursdays, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 03:55:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16485464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hekate1308/pseuds/Hekate1308
Summary: Like any other human, Morse has always been aware of creatures. He didn't expect to find them in his governor's family, however. Magical Realism AU.





	Familienbande

**Author's Note:**

> I know this is too late for Halloween but I only conceived it on Halloween night after a stressful day. Hope you enjoy it!

Like any other human, Morse has always been aware of creatures. Some still call them monsters, but he has always refused to do so. They are a different species, and that’s all.

They have just always been a fact of life, and despite public perception, he hasn’t had much contact with them. Many believe that police men run into creatures all the time. It’s not true. They mostly keep to themselves.

Or at least so Morse believed.

Because today, on Halloween of all days, creatures have finally been declared citizens of their own right. Again, he’s long since believed that they should be.

And so, he ventures forth on this October 31rd firmly believing that he’ll barely notice the change to their society as a whole.

How wrong he is.

He’s barely reached the Thursday’s doorstep when it is thrown wide open and Mrs. Thursday ushers him in. “Come in, Endeavour! I was waiting for you! You must be starving! Let’s have some proper breakfast –“

The enthusiastic greeting isn’t that out of character for Mrs. Thursday, and even if it was, Morse would still be busy processing the fact that she has black eyes.

He knows what it means, of course. Everyone does.

But still. Even if he had known one of his acquaintances was a demon, he doubts Mrs. Thursday would have made his list of suspects.

He shakes his head at himself. List of suspects. He’s met a few demons in his time, and none of them have ever been accused of a crime – apart from where people tend to think they are responsible from everything starting at petty theft and ending at stealing someone’s soul (although Morse still doubts the last one is possible).

Still, he judges it best to stay calm and follow her into the house. If she meant to harm him, she could have done it the countless times he was here before.

He doesn’t quite think it all through until he sees Sam and Joan at the breakfast table, their eyes black as well. When they see him, they get up.

“Endeavour!” They both hug, and when they draw back, their eyes look normal again. Of course. demons can control that, he surmises. Otherwise they wouldn’t have been able to live quiet lives in a small neighbourhood.

To his astonishment, the table is set for five. Despite Mrs. Thursday’s greetings, he is contemplating the possibility that there is a magical family member he’s never met when Joan tells him, “Better sit down. Mum’s all ready to make you eat more. You won’t believe how much she’s already fussed over your weight.”

He considers it best to obey.

A few minutes later, he and the others minus DI Thursday are eating a good English breakfast. The table holds more food than he’s had in the last week, and he decides to do some research on demons. Maybe they need more sustenance than the average human?

Even though he wouldn’t have assumed Mrs. Thursday to be a creature, he’s less surprised than he would have thought he’d be. After all, he knows DI Thursday; and if there’s a man tolerant and decent enough to see past the facade and fall in love with a demon –

A heavy hand falls unto his shoulder just as he takes another bite; he ends up coughing as a voice he knows very well indeed booms “Already fattening up the lad, Win?” As he takes a deep breath, that same voice says, “Sorry. Sometimes it’s difficult controlling one’s strength.”

And then he’s looking up into the eyes of DI Thursday.

Which are just as pitch black as those of his wife and children.

He sits down next to him as if it’s completely normal for him to have a full breakfast at his governor’s house. “Big day for all of us.”

Joan laughs. “I can’t wait to scare everyone at the bank!”

“Joan” Mrs. Thursday admonishes her gently.

“Come on Mum, it’ll be fun! We can all use that there these days. Don’t you think so, Endeavour?”

He’s not quite sure how to respond to that, remembering that day.

Joan grows serious. “Although by God I wish the spell hadn’t been in place. I could have saved –“

“We’ve been through this, pet” Thursday says firmly. “Some things happen and there is nothing we can do to stop them. Just ask Endeavour.”

“I’m here too, you know” Sam complains, but in the next moment, his eyes once more turning to black, he grins mischievously as the salt shaker flies over Morse’s plate and gives him a little bit more seasoning.

“And that, young man” Mrs. Thursday declares, “is exactly why you are not a part of serious discussions in this house.”

Morse doesn’t get it. Being demons is one thing. He’ll have to get used to it, of course, but he is determined to.

But it’s not just that their eyes turn black now and then and that they have powers of some kind. No, they all treat him as if he’s a member of the family – even more so than before.

“Well, now that the Council was kind enough to lift the spell at least we don’t have to hide anymore” Thursday addresses him and he’s careful to reply, “Yes, sir” in a calm voice.

He’s confused when Thursday indulgently shakes his head and mouths at his wife something that looks rather like “Never mind.”

* * *

 

When it’s time to leave, Joan jumps into the car as a matter of course, and before Morse can ask DI Thursday if they’re supposed to take her with them today, Mrs. Thursday comes out of the kitchen. “There you go.”

A sandwich is pressed into his hands just as into Thursday’s before he can blink, and then he’s treated to a motherly hug. “You both stay safe, you hear me?”

She kisses DI Thursday before turning to Morse. “And make sure this one” Her eyes turn black again as she sharply nods in her husband’s direction “keeps his temper.”

Thursday grumbles a bit at that, and Morse judges it prudent to simply nod.

“Sam!” Thursday calls out “Make sure you put out the –“

The bin flies past and unto the street in front of Morse’s eyes.

“Sam, what –“

“That wasn’t me!”

Joan is laughing in the backseat, happy and carefree, her black eyes out for all to see.

To say it’s been a bizarre morning would be an understatement.

* * *

 

Everyone at the station seems lightly stunned when they realize. Strange obviously doesn’t know what to do, and Jakes does his best to appear unperturbed but smokes more cigarettes than Morse has seen him do in a while.

Trewlove is her usual professional self, though, and Superintendent Bright is content as long as nothing changes, and it first everything looks as normal as ever.

And then Morse comes into Thursday’s office to find him pouring a dark red liquid into his tea.

Normally he feels faint when he sees blood, and he doesn’t understand that this time he doesn’t even grow remotely nauseous when he smells it.

Why does he even smell it from several feet away?

“Ah, Endeavour. Just to keep my strength up, you know. Win would never let me hear the end of it.”

That’s another thing. He hasn’t called him Morse once since he picked him up this morning.

Something’s afoot. He vows to search out information about demons as quickly as he can.

* * *

 

That evening, Mrs. Thursday all but tries to drag him to dinner table personally.

“I’m fine, really –“ in truth, he’s surprised at how hungry he is; he usually doesn’t have much of an appetite these days; but when she finally accepts this decision, he’s presented once more with sandwiches. Before he leaves, she brushes dust off his coat. “You really need some proper clothing. Winter’s almost here.”

* * *

 

At least her last comment he finds a reason for. His last errant of the day is to find the nearest bookstore and purchase something about demons. Granted, _A Beginner’s Guide to our Demonic Neighbours_ doesn’t sound promising, but it does provide some usual information.

It seems there are different types of demons. The black-eyed ones are the most common of their kind, although Morse doesn’t think there’s anything common about the Thursdays.

Black-eyed demons have telekinetic powers – Morse has already seen that – but mostly they are simply stronger than humans, with more muscle mass and a more vicious temper.

That certainly explains some of DI Thursday’s outbursts.

They also smell and hear better than humans, feel temperate more keenly, have better recuperative powers than most other species (that explains DI Thursday coughing up the bullet) and they can see in the dark. Plus, they really do need a drink of blood now and then, but it doesn’t have to be human.

That’s all well and good – he doesn’t think there’ll be a problem with the blood supply, seeing as the Thursdays have done well so far – but it doesn’t explain –

The last chapter is titled in German.

 _Familienbande_.

Morse has heard enough Wagner to have a vague idea of what it’s supposed to be, but the meaning of the word still surprises him.

Familienbande _is a difficult and complicated concept only found in demonic culture. If a family of demons decide to take someone under their wing – human or creature – they do indeed become family tio them, as if related by blood. Fiercely protective, they will get just as angry if anyone attacks said person (or creature) as if they had gone aftzer a sibling, spouse or child of their own._

 _What happens further depends on the person who is being drawn into the_ Familienbande _. The closer they get to the demons who have all but adopted him (providing that this is almost too shallow a term for the true meaning of this custom) they might develop some demonic powers of their own or, in rare cases, when they grow indeed as close to the demons as they would to their true family, they’ll turn into one themselves. It has been proven that most of the time, the subject isn’t truly aware of the changes until the transformation is complete. It is gradual and painless and usually doesn’t cause any problems –_

Morse decides he might as well stop reading. There is no danger of that.

No one in their right mind would want him to become part of their family.

* * *

 

A few weeks later, he has to give in and get a new coat to placate Mrs. Thursday. According to the book, demons feel cold temperatures more keenly, so they must all be miserable in winter; and she’s probably forgotten he’s better suited to it as a human.

To his surprise, he has to get it a size bigger than his old one. He’d think this was due to Mrs. Thursday’s insisting that he regularly have dinner with them (and dear God, has he seen them put much food away – faster metabolism, according to his research), only that the salesman explains it’s about his shoulder and the muscles he’s apparently been building up.

It’s a little weird, but he has more important things to focus on. Because he was wrong when he thought nothing would change at the station. As it turns out, creatures are just as prone to commit petty crimes or cause brawls as humans, and he and DI Thursday are usually the ones sent out when there’s a disturbance for obvious reasons.

One day, they take Jakes with them. The suspect in a domestic altercation is a banshee and takes to his heels when he sees them coming. Later, he will thank that it’s strange he outruns Jakes so easily – normally he can keep up with him without problems; but Morse is the first to catch up on him, and –

The banshee screams.

It’s unlike any other sounds Morse has ever heard, the most hopeless, the most anguished scream there could be, and he can feel it slice right through his brain, everything is hot, hot pain, he is going to evaporate, and he thinks he’s screaming too, but he can’t be certain –

And then it stops and he blinks and sees Thursday has tackled the banshee to the ground. His eyes are black, and his teeth look fang-like. “How dare you” he hisses. “How. Dare. You.”

“I didn’t know!” the banshee shrieks, thankfully at a level that’s not painful to human ears. “I swear to God I didn’t know!”

Morse suddenly knows what’s about to happen and he can’t allow Thursday to go to jail for tearing him apart. He whispers a word, and suddenly Thursday is next to him. “It’s going to be alright lad, you’ll be fine.”

A flask is held up to his lips and he swallows the delicious liquid it contains eagerly until Thursday puts it away. “That’s enough for now.”

“Sir? Morse?” Jakes has caught up with them.

“Book him” Thursday says, “He won’t be a problem now.”

Morse is left to fervently hope that he was too upset to realize that the word Morse called him was _Dad_.

Perhaps he is going insane. It would explain a few things.

* * *

 

He learns a lot about the Thursdays in the following weeks since Mrs. Thursday will not be denied when it comes to feeding and even inviting him over on the weekends.

He learns that Joan is quite as prone to play pranks as Sam is, although she tries to hide it, and that his feelings for her have slowly changed from romantic attraction to something much closer to what he feels for Joycie.

He learns that Sam can talk for hours about cars if asked.

He learns that Mr. and Mrs. Thursday aren’t just married but underwent a traditional demonic blood bonding ceremony.

He learns that their eyes are not just black – Di Thursday’s are the colour of the deepest shadow on a sunny day, Mrs. Thursday’s those of the small hours of the morning; Sam’s and Joan’s are a mixture of both.

One day he comes home and the sight of the book about demons on his table makes a niggling voice at the back of his head appear, but it’s gone before he can figure out what he’s supposed to figure out, and he forgets about it.

* * *

 

They are trying to apprehend a murderer. Strange has a flashlight because he insists it’s pitch black, even though Morse can see just fine. He makes a mental note to ensure Strange’s eyesight isn’t going later.

He reels around to see their murderer sneaking up on his colleague and shouts at him to duck before tackling him.

“That was incredibly fast, matey” Strange tells him later. “And with it being so dark, too.”

“It wasn’t that dark” he says and doesn’t understand why Strange is staring at him oddly.

* * *

 

Joyce and he have been talking quite a bit on the phone, lately. It seems she feels lonely, and claims that it does her good he sounds so “jolly” lately.

“You should come here, Joycie” he finally tells her one day shortly before Christmas. “You could get a job –“ It would be wonderful to have his sister near.

“I might just do that.”

He grins brightly. She’s not wrong about one thing – he does feel decidedly happier than he did a few months ago.

* * *

 

A demon appears in front of Morse’s desk, making Jakes jump. Morse doesn’t. He’s too sued to be around the Thursdays, and well aware that red-eyed demons can teleport.

“Are you the Thursdays’ oldest?”

“I am DI Thursday’s bagman sir –“

The demon snorts. “Right.” He drops an envelope on the table. “That’s for Fred. Sealed with a loving kiss.”

When Morse delivers it, Fred shakes his head. “Always the same with him. Oh well, Crowley is by no means the worst of the bunch.”

He’s one of those that make deals at crossroads. Even for that, Morse will later learn, he really is _not_ the worst of the bunch.

By then, he spends more time with creature than humans anyway, at least when he’s not on the job.

* * *

 

Christmas is spent at the Thursday’s house, and it’s one of the best Morse can remember since his mother died. They give him another new coat, and recordings even though he tried to insist he didn’t expect presents, and he probably eats more than his body weight.

He’s just been ravenous, lately. At least it doesn’t really show, not with him gaining muscle instead of fat and the Thursdays eating quite as much as he does.

* * *

 

“Morse!”

It almost feels strange being called that now.

He turns to see Jerome hurrying up to him. “I haven’t seen you in ages! You –“ his eyes widen. “My, you are a sight for sore eyes! You look wonderful!”

“Right back at you” he grins.

Jerome blinks. “For a second I thought – must be the lightning.”

They have a drink.

* * *

 

He once more gets a brick thrown into his face and ends up with a slight concussion. Mrs. Thursday makes him stay in their guest room.

Really, the doctor must have been mistaken, because he’s feeling perfectly fine the next morning, and the coffee she gives him makes it even better, even though Sam and Joan are sniggering behind his back in a way that makes him wonder if they’ve slipped something in it.

That afternoon, he goes to see Doctor DeBryn and immediately says “Cyanide.”

“Sorry?”

He points at a body three tables from where he’s standing. The smell is unmistakeable.

Somehow, the dead don’t bother him anymore. “I’d say we have a murder on our hands.”

“I see”. He makes a note, then looks up. “And how’s your head?”

“I am feeling fine.”

“It sure must be nice to have such recuperative powers.”

Morse thinks he wants to tell him something – and indeed there is something familiar about the wording – but he can’t remember.

* * *

 

Joyce does indeed find a job in a shop near Joan’s bank, and one cold (it really is remarkably cold this winter) February morning Morse picks her up from the train station. He’s so glad to see her he twirls her around, and when they stop turning, she’s laughing breathlessly. “Have you started lifting weights? My God!”

He has to bring her to dinner at the Thursdays’, of course, and when they return home that night, she shakes her head at him. “I have never seen you eat so much, not even when you were a teenager.”

He shrugs. “I’ve been feeling hungry lately, that’s all.”

* * *

 

At the beginning of March, there are protests in Oxford. Certain elements of society (as Mrs. Thursday dubs them; the DI simply refers to them as “bastards”) apparently don’t like living amongst creatures.

Endeavour is quick to realize there are not nearly as many of them as they think there are, but he still accompanies the Thursdays to a protest against them in turn. It feels right.

To their credit, it’s not the creatures who turn to violence. No, instead a few of the “humans against monsters” (they can’t even be creative, it seems) start panicking and attack their small group.

That was a mistake. All of the Thursdays are excellent fighters.

And Morse knows that. Which is why he should hang back –

But then one of them advances towards Joan and he sees red. How dare he, how dare he come near his –

“Endeavour! Endeavour! You can stop, he’s on the ground.”

And then he’s looking at Sam and on the man he just all but tackled down, and he’s breathing heavily, and his ears are ringing –

Sam grins. “Dad’ll be thrilled. That’s just his shade.”

He doesn’t understand until he sees his reflection in a nearby shop window.

His eyes are black, and his teeth look remarkably fang-like.

He waits for shock, but it doesn’t come.

Instead, there’s something like joy, and something like relief.

“Endeavour, Sam, are you – oh. I’ve be waiting for this!” And Joan gathers him into a crushing hug.

* * *

 

Life, Morse reflects a few months later as he climbs up the stairs to the station, has become rather remarkably lately.

Strange and a PC are struggling with a TV – they booked a serial burglar a few hours ago – and Morse makes it lift off the ground effortlessly.

“Thanks, matey.”

He nods and moves to his desk.

“Ah, Morse”. Superintendent Bright is standing in front of Dad’s office. “Do you happen to know where DI Thursday is?”

They have all adjusted to the changes rather quickly. Maybe, Morse thinks now and then, it’s because he never made a particularly good human. On the other hand, he’s a pretty decent demon.

Not even Joycie was very shocked. She’s been spending a lot of time with them, lately; tonight she’ll come over for Halloween dinner.

Just as well. The food she’s been putting away, these last few days –

“He went to talk to Miss Frazil, sir. He’ll be back in half an hour.”

“Excellent.”

Trewlove brings them coffee. “Here. Put some pig’s blood into yours, Sergeant.”

“Thank you.”

He catches Jakes’ eyes – he looks unimpressed as always – and grins.

Yes.

Life is stranger than he thought it would be.

And rather more wonderful.

**Author's Note:**

> It's happy! Only it's kind of creepy because he's no longer human, but it's also happy because he's one of them now - I have no idea where this idea came from. Still, as stated before, hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
